


good girl

by theantepenultimateriddle



Category: Wolf 359 (Radio)
Genre: Bondage, F/F, Silence, a tad bit of aftercare but i might write the rest of that separately, blindfolding, esp. for these two, giving permission to come, hey why do gay girls never cook? they're always eating out lmao, i don't write lots of bondage fic so feedback is appreciated, kind of a praise kink? idk if that really applies here
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-29
Updated: 2018-04-29
Packaged: 2019-04-29 14:26:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14474625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theantepenultimateriddle/pseuds/theantepenultimateriddle
Summary: "You listen so well, Minkowski. Listen, obey, internalize. And now you're going to listen to me. You're going to lie back and be totally silent while I take you apart."





	good girl

Minkowski looks so pretty all spread out and bare and supine before her like that, hair come undone from her ponytail and floating in a wavy halo around her face, blank look in her eyes. Her wrists are stretched up and handcuffed to the bed posts, legs held open and apart by the spreader bar at her knees, ankles tied down to keep her immobile and submissive as Lovelace has her way. Lovelace is practically vibrating in anticipation of doing exactly that. It doesn’t help that for some reason watching Minkowski abandon control and restraint makes her into something simultaneously more vulnerable and more intense, and Lovelace lives for bringing that out in her. She loves taking control.

She's never done it like this before, though.

Lovelace twists the length of fabric she holds in her hands and looks Minkowski up and down, taking her in. “Mmm,” she hums, watching Minkowski’s chest jerk in quick little pants like it has been since she first started cuffing her hands down. Minkowski’s eyes are glazed and she’s staring vacantly at Lovelace’s naked form, but there are still flickers of coherency left in them for the time being. “Are you sure you’re okay with this?” No harm in seeing if there have been any last-minute mind changes.

“I--” Minkowski starts shakily. She clears her throat and tries again. “I have never been more sure of anything. And besides, I know the safeword.”

“Right. Good.” Lovelace lets out a long exhale and licks her lips, shifting slightly in place. “Then let’s get started.” She lifts her chin and squares her shoulders, wiping her face clean of any expression and forcing her voice to take on a cold and emotionless tone to match. “Hold still, Lieutenant.”

At the sound of her words Minkowski tips her head back, gritting her teeth in effort, and Lovelace sees her muscles strain briefly against the restraints before relaxing. She shakes her head. “No, no. You didn’t think I’d let you get out that easily, did you? No, you’re just going to sit there, and I’m going to do… well, whatever I want. Starting with this.” Lovelace steps forwards with the blindfold in her hands and walks to the front of the bed. “Lie back and don't resist,” she says, a command rather than a request, and Minkowski does. Lovelace smiles in display of approval more for Minkowski's benefit than her own. “Such an obedient girl. Always so, so obedient when people ask.” Lovelace ties the blindfold snugly around her eyes, and Minkowski gasps as all the light gets cut off from her eyes. She continues to speak. “You learned how to rebel, but sometimes it feels good, doesn’t it? Lying back and doing whatever someone says. Never asking questions. Never resisting. Just following orders, like the good little lieutenant, commander, _middle manager_ that you always were.”

The words feel like poison as Lovelace spits them out, because this isn’t what she thinks of Minkowski, this has never been what she thought of Minkowski-- not of the woman she admires and respects and loves loves _loves_ more than anyone in the universe. But Minkowski’s breathing picks up the pace even faster, her jaw clenching and unclenching as she takes shallow breaths, her face flushing. As Lovelace looks her body up and down she can _see_ how wet Minkowski is, the glistening shine between her thighs. She’s enjoying this, so Lovelace keeps talking. “You listen so well, Minkowski. Listen, obey, internalize. And now you’re going to listen to me.” Lovelace drops her voice, going almost to a growl. “You’re going to lie back and be totally silent while I take you apart.”

Minkowski’s never been good at silence, so it’ll be interesting to watch her try.

Minkowski doesn’t make a noise, but she nods, one quick jerk of the chin. Lovelace smiles. “Good. Now let’s get started.” And with that Lovelace climbs onto the bed between Minkowski’s legs, being careful not to jostle the spreader bar, and lowers her mouth down.

The minute Lovelace’s tongue makes contact with Minkowski’s skin she lets out a drawn-out groan, and Lovelace pulls back. “I said, _Renée,_ that you’ll be silent. Are you going to disobey me?” No answer from Minkowski, though Lovelace can see the tension in all of her muscles as she struggles to stay still, the cords of her neck standing out as she forces herself not to speak. Her head twitches slightly, her hands clenching and unclenching, and Lovelace marvels at how quickly she’s falling apart. “Good,” says Lovelace. “Good girl. Keep being good for me, and I’ll reward you. If you’re not… well. We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.” She takes a deep breath and leans back down to Minkowski’s body.

Lovelace kisses the inside of her thigh, first. Minkowski takes a deep breath at that, but doesn’t make a noise, just exhales very slowly as Lovelace sucks on her skin. Lovelace moves up along her inner thighs slowly, symmetrically, leaving purple hickeys on both sides to match, before finally ending up at the fork of Minkowski’s legs. Then she slides her mouth slowly over Minkowski’s folds, the tang and vague salt of her fluids coating her taste buds, and hooks her tongue on the nub of Minkowski’s clit. Minkowski’s entire body jerks, her hips lifting off the bed to push against Lovelace's mouth, trying to force her tongue deeper. Instead of letting her Lovelace grabs her and slams her hips back down to the bed, holding them there. She contemplates for a second, but decides that this won’t count as a strike against the instructions. She’s merciful, after all. Kind of.

Lovelace spends some time teasing her, swirling her tongue along Minkowski's entrance, rubbing her clit ever so gently and listening to the strained silence as she tries desperately not to make noise, the difficulty she's having with not moving in response to Lovelace's touch. Then when Minkowski's nice and dripping Lovelace begins to fuck her in earnest, all fluid tongue against Minkowski’s twitching, barely-restrained spasms. Normally she’d be screaming and whimpering and calling Lovelace’s name by now, but she’s doing so well-- the only sounds she’s making are little hisses like the air being let out of a balloon, in-between gasping for air. Lovelace goes faster, flicking her tongue in and out, and she reaches her hand up to rub the hood of Minkowski’s clit as Minkowski rocks against her just slightly. Lovelace feels the movement but decides to let it go, because she can feel the buildup in Minkowski’s body, waiting for a release, waiting for--

Lovelace raises her mouth up slightly and speaks. “You can come now,” she says, and Minkowski does, the tension flooding from her in an instant as Lovelace keeps her fingers working slower, guiding her through the last of it. And then Minkowski slumps back with a moan, and Lovelace sits on her heels, and it’s over. It’s over. Lovelace takes a slow breath, her heart pounding in her ears. “How are you doing?”

Minkowski laughs shakily. “I’m fine, Lovelace. That was…” She makes a pleased noise. “That was _very_ good.” Her voice breaks slightly. “I-- I think you need to untie me now, though.”

“Oh. Oh, yeah.” Lovelace springs into action. She turns first to the spreader bar and the ropes on her ankles, undoing them carefully and putting them aside. Minkowski has small red marks on the skin where the ropes were, but otherwise seems okay. Then she gets down off the bed and moves around to the side to unlock the handcuffs. As she does, Minkowski’s arms fall limply to the bed. She makes no attempt to remove the blindfold, so Lovelace does it for her, pulling the black cloth off from over her eyes. “There you go.”

Minkowski blinks at the light and at Lovelace, then closes her eyes and tips her head back. “I love you,” she murmurs, but there’s something else in her voice-- sadness? Something more deep-rooted that makes the bottom drop out of Lovelace’s stomach.

She moves to sit on the side of the bed, next to Minkowski. “You know all the stuff I was saying wasn’t accurate, right? I didn’t mean any of it. If I hurt you--”

“You were fine,” says Minkowski, opening her deep, brown eyes. “Trust me, you were better than fine. That was _amazing._ And trust me, if I’d wanted to stop at any point, I would have told you to stop. It was just… emotionally exhausting. That’s all.”

“Well, is there anything I can get you to help? Water, maybe?” Lovelace starts to get up, but Minkowski catches her wrist and tugs her back down.

“No, please. Stay with me?”

Lovelace couldn’t possibly refuse.


End file.
